Endocytosis
by thehouseoftudor
Summary: When House lets Allison stay at his place for the night over some flimsy excuse that she forgot her keys, he didn't expect that it would land him with the one thing he had been trying to avoid all his life. Why oh why didn't he wear a condom?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: Delirium

* * *

Allison downed another glass of wine. How many had she drunk already?

"I think the term damaged goods would be better House," she slurred.

House was in no better condition than she. After he basically implied that everything she felt for him was nothing but pity and a need to fix broken things, everything had consecutively gone to hell.

To soothe their injured feelings, they found the comfort in the wonderful drug known as alcohol. Drink after drink they swallowed down, talking shit about their fellow colleagues, Chase and Foreman. They started laughing. Laughing at the most inconvenient things or words.

_I should put the glass down _she thought.

Both she and House were to be present for an important surgery tomorrow and it was bad enough that they'd be showing up to work with major hang overs. Cuddy wouldn't be too pleased.

_But what the hey? Can't I let lose for one night?_

"You're wrong," he replied back drowning down some dry scotch. It was enough to make Allison feel guilty. Had she distressed him this much? To the point where he was ingesting heavier intoxicants than she was?

"I'm damaged, but I was never good so your aforementioned pun doesn't apply to me in any way."

Allison begged to differ, but decided not to argue with him on this one. The night was depressing as it was and she was sure the amount of drinks she had was fogging up the more acute emotional pain she would feel about this when she was sober.

His gaze turned to her and he studied her hard.

What did Gregory see in her? Did he think she was beautiful (he had told her so, but in a way as usual to make one feel bad about it)? Smart? Worth it?

Why was she asking this now?

He had after all agreed to go out with her because he so desperately needed her abilities. And he liked her. Right?

Wrong.

Allison could see it now.

He was doing only this because he desperately needed her back.

Perhaps he liked how things were. The four of them. Perhaps he felt the team didn't feel the same without her.

That was as close to an explanation she could get when it involved an enigma like Gregory House.

And what was worse was that she didn't know whether to feel bad or good about it.

She closed her eyes briefly not at all interested in finishing the rest of her food.

"Even if you weren't 'good' before, I doubt it was a bad thing." Allison had no idea what she was talking about anymore. Hell, what did she even mean by the term 'good?'

Was she simply making conversation? Some baseless attempt to keep up with his intelligence? As if she even understood what he was talking about.

She looked down on to the table in disdain. It was amazing how House could peel off every layer of skin and pour salt on your wounds. He knew how to get into people's nerves without any sort of sympathy or empathy. Yet at times, albeit discreetly, he had indulged such things. He was a walking mass of complexes and a man of contradictions.

Was that what attracted her to him? It couldn't simply be pity. It couldn't simply be because she wanted to fix the broken toy.

She wanted to disagree with him. She wanted to prove him wrong.

Only she didn't know how.

"I think we should call it a night," she said reluctantly. It was best to end it right now. Before he caused her anymore pain. Before she unnerved him enough to lash out at her with verbal vomit and unravel her secrets.

He looked at her for a few moments. His expression almost _pitying, _but he would never admit it. She brought this upon herself and she knew it. She supposed the only thing she could have been thankful for was the fact that he hadn't rubbed it in.

"Alright," he agreed and called for the bill. Allison pulled out some cash, much to his surprise and went halves. Unlike most gentlemen, he didn't protest, simply shrugged and added his share.

_Cheap bastard _she thought with dry amusement.

She was a bit wobbly getting up, but otherwise not too bad. House looked worse than her, but most of it was probably to do with his leg. Together they left the restaurant in awkward silence.

"I don't think you'll be able to drive," he said wryly, but still serious all the same. At this, Allison chuckled.

"I walked."

They were about to part ways, but he stopped and waited as she frantically searched through her hand bag.

"Shit," she muttered to herself. Could this night get any worse?

"What is it?" He asked in annoyance. She didn't know why. She had half expected him to walk off. Subconsciously she bit her lip. This was embarrassing.

"I forgot my keys. I left them on the bench and I locked myself out of the house."

Silence ensured, but she saw the corners of his mouth twitch upwards in an amused smile.

Allison tried and failed to conceal a blush.

House sighed and briefly rubbed his temples.

"It's too late to bother calling the locksmiths right now and I do have that surgery in the morning. No doubt you'll be coming in late or not at all having to have someone breakdown your door."

Allison's lips thinned into a deep line. Salt in the wounds indeed.

Before she could say anything, he continued.

"You haven't brought your car and the subway is too far to walk to. God knows where you'd go, but I forgot you're an Atheist so he doesn't care. Can't take a cab because you used the rest of your cash as a tip. Big hearted and pitying as you are. No ATM in sight. No way to get to a decent motel especially since you're drunk." He paused for a moment when he noticed how glum her expression was.

Still, it never ceased to amaze her how he could go over every single bloody detail.

"You could take me home and I'd work it out from there," she suggested.

House gazed at her like she was an idiot. She resisted biting out something nasty. It just wouldn't help the situation.

"Again you're too tired, too drunk and too frustrated. Can't believe I am even offering this," he drawled as Allison raised a brow in bewilderment.

A long sigh this time.

"You could spend the night at my place if you so wish. Just to clear your head and when you can finally make coherent decision in the morning, work out how to get back into your house."

The offer was surprising, but she scowled at him no less.

"I'm not that drunk," she hissed. What did he think she was? Some sort of blubbering stumbling drunkard fool? She seethed through her teeth.

"Of course you're not," he said in fake apology.

Allison wanted to refuse him, but the logical part of her mind understood he was simply being reasonable and being tired, drunk and having a minor headache, she didn't want to be sitting outside her door waiting for an afterhours locksmith.

And to be honest, she was a little curious about his home.

"Okay," she conceded, but not able to look him in the eye.

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

He said nothing and simply started walking. Allison trudged behind him quietly, feeling embarrassed and stupid. If there was anything House excelled at, it was making smart people feel like they were injudicious.

"Are you sober enough to drive?" She managed to say when they reached his car. A dark blue BMW. So he had some taste.

"More sober than you," he answered. She doubted that very much, but was too tired to care. Tired and that other feeling. When someone puts you back in your place and you aversely know that, that is where you belong. She didn't know what word described that resentful feeling.

Gingerly she got into the car with him and said nothing to him the whole ride to his place.

* * *

The elevator up to his floor was just as eerily quiet and Allison couldn't think of anything to break the silence. There was nothing to say. She had been humiliated ten times over, with him unravelling her motives at dinner and mocking her lack of common sense when they left. The worst part of it was that she deserved it. Deserved it all.

When the key slid into the door, he hesitated and looked back at her. With a roll of his eyes he said 'welcome to the Gregory House household." Allison snorted as he led her in.

The first thing that caught her attention was the big grand piano sitting in the main living space. House played the piano? Or was it there for aesthetic reasons? He seemed to notice her looking at it and clucked his tongue. "Don't even think about it. I'm not playing for you and you are not allowed to touch it. Kapeesh?"

Allison narrowed her eyes and went straight for the sofa.

"Kapeesh?" She questioned and slipped off her shoes.

"Kapeesh?" He said again.

Allison couldn't help but smile.

"Kapeesh," she surmised.

He left the room for a few moments and Allison took the moment to properly survey the living space. Bookcases lined the walls filled with various medical journals, classical music and European languages. Much different tastes to what she liked, which were books on psychology, the theory of evolution and works by old writers like Jane Austen and Charles Dickens.

Without a doubt he would mock her about that and she supposed it was a good thing she kept her readings away in a private study instead of on display. She wondered what he would have thought of her had he seen them when he came to her place to ask her to return to work a few days ago.

House returned a few moments later with a blanket and a pillow. She smiled at him idly and asked him where the bathroom was.

He pointed down the hall and let her go without further question. As she walked past him, she could see him unknot his tie and his fingers twiddle over his walking stick. A nervous gesture. Was he that uncomfortable she was here?

Well it would only be one night and she'd probably slip out before he woke up in the early hours of the morning.

Rubbing her tired eyes, she took out her hair, scrubbed off her make-up, undid her dress and removed her bra and pantyhose. Satisfied with that, she rummaged through his draws for a spare toothbrush, found one and cleaned herself up. No doubt she would be feeling like shit in the morning.

As she left the bathroom, she peered down the hall and saw that House was already lying face down on his bed. Still in his clothes save for his jacket and shoes. Either he was really tired, or was making a serious effort to ignore her. Judging by how he had turned off all the lights save for a lamp in the living space, it was the latter.

Allison's mouth tightened into a thin line, but there really wasn't anything she could do.

"Goodnight," she called out.

He did not answer her.

She was left to sit on the sofa and brood.

The whole situation….just…

It just fucking sucked.

House was everything any female would abhor in a man.

Conceited, proud, arrogant, unsympathetic, almost completely oblivious to the feelings of others and a downright pessimist.

And yet such undesirable qualities made her all the more attracted to him. All those things made him one of the most interesting and most intelligent men she had ever met. It made him one of the best doctors in the country. At least in her opinion. Perhaps that was why she had such an inferiority complex to him.

Is that why she asked him on a date?

Because deep in her unconscious, she wanted to measure up to him? Have some power over him?

No. That wasn't true.

She liked him. She liked him for all the reasons she thought above and yet she knew it wouldn't work. Falling for him would only cause her more pain and even at this stage, the feelings he stirred within her were almost overwhelming.

_But I don't want things to end here. _

She thought back to what her expectations had been before the date. A successful night with familiarity and understanding. Possibly even sex.

But there was no possibility of that now.

Or was there?

Allison looked at her bare legs.

So maybe House hadn't even given any inclination that he found her sexually attractive or beautiful, but he had certainly asked her what someone as good looking as her was doing in medicine.

But that wasn't the same as attraction.

And even though House had told her himself at dinner he wasn't that good looking, she disagreed. Granted he was middle aged and she was only twenty eight, but she figured he looked pretty good for a man in his early forties and his personality, however uncaring and selfish, only added to that charm.

Allison bit her bottom lip.

She didn't want the night to end like this. She didn't want it to be something so meaningless. She didn't want House to have the last say.

She hesitated a few moments when the thought crossed her mind. It was risky and could lead to her being so fucking humiliated, she wouldn't be able to show her face to work for the whole week, but yet…

Yet she wanted to see a different side of House.

If he rejected her then she would deal with it.

But she doubted he would. Who would say no to this?

Gingerly, she hitched up her dress and pulled down her black lacy underwear and stuffed it in her bag. While most men wouldn't notice if they were drunk, she was sure House wouldn't be remiss as to why she wasn't wearing any panties. It was her way of showing him she wasn't as good and saintly as he thought she was.

In nothing but her dress with no underwear, her hair messy down and her mind incoherent, Allison took a deep breath and made her way to Gregory's bedroom.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Clarity

* * *

That morning, Cuddy was surprised to receive a call from Allison that she was sick. Just a day after she came back no less!

The first two things that crossed her mind was that Cameron was lying because she never called in sick and that House was responsible for her 'sick day.' She pouted her bottom lip in annoyance and anger. House could be a real bastard sometimes, yet this was Cameron's own fault for blackmailing him into dating her.

Honestly what had the woman expected?

Needless to say, that was one of the last things on her mind. It appeared that Cameron had done just as much damage to House because he had come to work, ruffled, black eyed from lack of sleep, obviously recovering from a hangover and extremely out of it. As if something so bad had happened to him that he was indifferent and oblivious to everything.

She had wanted to scold him, but decided to keep her distance this morning as he lay back in his office with his headphones over his ears. Normally she wouldn't have cared, but instead of the cocky and 'no it all' attitude he always portrayed as he listened to his music and bounced his good leg in time with the beat, all she saw was a lethargic man with a blank expression who just realized his life meant nothing.

Just what had Cameron said to him? Better yet, what had she done?

There wasn't too much time to dwell on it. Foreman had been sent to oversee House's surgery because there was no way she was letting a drunkard fool operate in such a situation.

And despite her misgivings over his extremely unprofessional appearance and attitude at work today, she had to make sure Vogler didn't catch sight of him or there would be hell to pay. Despite his display at the board meeting, he had reluctantly decided to stay and keep the one hundred million dollars within the hospital.

Finding a cure for cancer and providing proper medical care was more important than his dislike of Gregory House. She respected him for that, but that didn't mean Vogler was going to make his peace with House. He was still intent on making life as miserable as possible for Gregory and his team and Cuddy knew she would have to bend over backwards to stop the climax of the battle.

Gently she rubbed her forehead as she felt another headache coming along. She figured it was all from her period. It was becoming infrequent lately and she knew it was because she was transitioning into the menopausal state of her life. Still though, up to now she had a regular cycle and no other symptoms of descent into menopause other than irregular bleeding between periods. It was annoying, but she could handle it.

A knock on the glass doors to her office caught her attention and Cuddy raised her head to see Wilson waiting politely at the door. She beckoned him to come in and he did so, although his expression was grim.

"I take it you've seen House," she questioned.

She got a nod in reply. But at the same time, he also seemed amused.

"I take it you know the particulars?"

Wilson shifted uncomfortably.

She had him.

"Well, tell."

Wilson hesitated for a moment, but he was sure it couldn't hurt. There wasn't that many secrets among them, hell House's whole team thrived off gossip and no doubt Cameron herself would go over the particulars.

"Well the date didn't go as expected."

Cuddy narrowed her eyes.

"I already knew it wouldn't," she deadpanned.

Wilson merely scratched his chin and Cuddy patiently waited for him to elaborate.

"So besides insulting Allison, which was to be expected, she went back with him to his apartment and they had sex."

Now that was surprising.

Cuddy placed a few stray locks of hair behind her ear.

"Really? I mean I know she is overly caring, but she didn't strike me as the masochistic type."

Wilson chuckled in response.

"The only reason she was at his house in the first place was because she forgot her keys and locked herself out of her own house."

Cuddy blinked for a moment and then both of them burst out laughing. After they recovered themselves, Cuddy resumed the topic at hand.

"That doesn't explain why House is so…" she struggled for the right words and neither Wilson knew how to finish that sentence.

And so it remained.

"I think most of it is to do with his hangover, but from what I understand, he said the wrong thing after he finished screwing her and she cooked up a storm. And no, I do not know exactly what transpired. He certainly won't tell me, but you might have better luck with Cameron when she comes back."

* * *

Allison sat quietly on her sofa nursing some green tea. She didn't know why she made it if she wasn't going to drink it, but she supposed it gave her something to do. She had left Gregory's apartment in the early light of the morning and had waited two hours in front of her own house in silence. Then she had called the locksmith.

The one thing that kept revolving around her head was what a damned idiot she was.

And her mother had been right. She couldn't hold her alcohol.

Because out of all the most idiotic things she could have done, she just had to sleep with Gregory House in some bizarre effort to prove her self-worth and show him he was wrong about her motives. And, because she was completely shitfaced. He had seen right through the charade of course, told her so after they finished and called it nothing more than pity sex.

Besides it being absolutely mortifying, she knew he was right and whatever other reasons she had consoled herself with had been nothing more than the irrational thoughts conjured up by depressants. Her mind had realized this as soon as it became clear.

She cringed as she remembered her reaction. It was outraged, psychotic and downright insane. Her screaming and thrashing about had stunned House at least and she shamefully recalled how he tried to calm her down as she thrashed about in his arms. She had been absolutely hysterical, but something had snapped in her that night.

She had put so much emotion and care into House. Even resigning from her job to spare them both a tough decision. And all he could do for her in return was uncover the ugly truth behind it all which was hiding behind her Freudian ego.

In hindsight she should have seen it coming and without a doubt she knew she also needed to apologize. She just didn't know how to face him again.

With a defeated sigh, she set her mug down and went into the privacy of her study. Perhaps a book would help calm her nerves.

Wouldn't it be best if she just strolled into work and pretend like nothing happened?

Her bottom lip trembled.

_"You live under the delusion that you can fix everything that isn't perfect. That's why you married a man who was dying of cancer. You don't love, you need. And now that your husband is dead, you're looking for your new charity case. That's why you're going out with me. I'm twice your age, I'm not great looking, I'm not charming, I'm not even nice. What I am is what you need. I'm damaged."_

Tears welled up in her eyes and she buried her face in her hands.

His lack of understanding was what hurt her the most.

She was damaged too and he just couldn't see it. He thought the whole world revolved around him and his pain and his suffering. It was all him despite how many sad cases of illnesses they got per year. No matter if babies died of diseases or good people died of cancer. He was immune to everyone else's pain, but his own.

Yet she wanted to believe…

She wanted him to feel…

She rubbed her eyes. There was no use groaning about it now. She had thrown herself at him and humiliated herself in the process. Now she could only lick her wounds and let time heal them. She doubted she'd drown. The puddle was pretty shallow.

As she scanned through the array of books to find something that would soothe her, her eyes fell upon her old wedding photo album. Her eyes widened a little. She hadn't remembered that she had placed it here nor had she looked at it since her husband's death.

How young she had been.

Slowly she reached out and let her hand rest on the cool leather for a few moments before pulling it out. Taking a deep breath, she opened the album and gazed upon the face of the man whom she hadn't looked upon in over seven years.

Pale, tall and skinny, Benjamin Foster had truly been a sad case. She had only known him for less than a year before she had decided to marry him. Going by the nickname 'Bob' and halfway through a psychology degree, all his dreams had been shattered when he had been diagnosed with terminal thyroid cancer and in less than a week, she had decided she would stand by him no matter what. One week later he had mustered up the courage to propose to her and two weeks later they were married.

He had no one and naturally she felt sorry for him, but she loved him too.

House was wrong. It wasn't pity. It wasn't a need and it wasn't a charity case. She had loved this man.

"_Really? Then let me give you a scenario. Say he wasn't diagnosed with terminal cancer. What about HIV? Or genital herpes? Not exactly terminal cases. Would you have stuck by him then? Would your supposed love reign true and overcome all? Would you have married him in so little time?"_

Allison gritted her teeth. House had cruelly and selfishly been making fun of her when she insisted to him that she did have deep feelings for him and none of it was pity or needs. And of course to bite back and push her away he had to use this against her.

Allison turned the page. The both of them smiling happily for the pictures taken by her brother. Neither of them had much money and Allison had simply worn a formal white dress bought in Sears. They had been married in a local parish as Bob was Catholic and she supposed the priest allowed it without putting them through a series of Catholic scrutiny, paperwork and preaching because Bob was going to die.

She shut the photo album. She couldn't bear to look at it anymore and so put it away back in its designated spot.

Allison was an atheist through and through. She thought religions were stupid, God a sadistic bastard and religious followers people unable to accept nothingness. But of course she didn't outwardly mock people for holding such ideas. She had married a Catholic after all.

Yet with such reservations, she liked to believe that maybe there was a heaven out there. A place of tranquillity and happiness with an all-powerful being that loved human kind. A place where Benjamin was living in bliss.

But no matter how much she hoped or liked to think of such things, such thoughts were nothing but selfish misgivings to make death seem more endurable and less morbid.

With a sigh she rested back against her chair and stared up at the ceiling. She'd go back to work tomorrow and somehow face House without making it obvious what she was feeling and deal with it. Maybe to get him off her case or avoid too much awkwardness, she'd take on some of his clinical duty. Just to stay away from him.


End file.
